Hanging by a filament.

It hangs where daisies mauve and white Stand dreaming in the morning light, A spider’s web, a fairy thing Whose threads to daisy-petals cling, And quiver in the sunlit air; And on the cobweb here and there Round beads of amber dew are hung By elfin fingers deftly strung Along each gleaming silver thread. The hairy spider-witch has fled, And crouches in a huddled heap, Beneath a daisy, half asleep.